


Generals in the Shadows

by Missy



Category: World Championship Wrestling
Genre: Alcohol, Blow Jobs, M/M, Partnership, Partying, Road Trips, Shower Sex, day in the life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-18
Updated: 2016-08-18
Packaged: 2018-08-09 15:15:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7806829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ric and Arn have always had each other. And Arn - even if he's not allowed to show it much - appreciates that fact.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Generals in the Shadows

**Author's Note:**

  * For [salamandelbrot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/salamandelbrot/gifts).



“Christ. They ain’t changed the wallpaper in this place in twenty-five years.” Arn adjusted his glasses, tucked his hands at his hips and took a long look at the room around him. It was one of an innumerable number of Red Roof Inns that they’d stayed in over the past nearly twenty years, and it looked identical to the very first one he’d entered, right down to the wallpaper and the deep shag carpeting.

Ric tugged the blinds closed, flopped back onto the bed dramatically. “Brother, they ain’t changed the town in twenty-five years. The walls in this place are lucky, they’ve got style.”

Arn settled down next to him on the bed, felt a palm cap the top of his knee and almost, quite nearly managed a smile. How, he had no clue. His neck was still on fire from the three hour drive out of Greensboro and all he really wanted to do was sleep.

Ric’s smile was confident when Arn dared to look over his shoulder. His designer shoes were half-off of his feet, hanging from the tips of his toes, making him look more like a schoolboy on a holiday than a five time (by god!) champion of the world. 

“We are not going to a club on game night,” Arn said. What they needed to do was sit down and strategize the next move in their endless quest to get rid of Sting. But he’d be damned if he could ever actually get Ric to focus on the task at hand when he was horny, or looking for a better time than these four walls could give them. 

“Brother, game night’s the perfect time to get down.” 

Arn let out a low, desperate sigh. He knew what a pain in the ass Ric could be when he didn't get his way. “Let me grab a shower and I’ll be right with you.”

Ric just grinned, just pasted a kiss to the back of his neck, and Arn’s pulse raced spontaneously as he tried to stand up and make a clean getaway.

 

*******

 

Arn could not recall a time where Ric couldn’t look at him and make him react that way. Maybe it was just something about Ric himself, a sense of animal magnetism that magically drew him close to people; maybe it was because they’d been friends for so long. But all it took was one little look to force a change, to make him reach out and kiss Ric.

But hedid not, per Ric’s request, kiss him in public. They had an image to maintain, and that image didn’t include falling in love with his best friend. And besides, Ric had enemies who would make Arn an even bigger target than he already was if they ever realized that their union went far beyond the intense partnership that had outlasted a thousand other Horsemen. Arn thought it was a reasonable deal; he got to be the general and Ric got to be the face, and what happened behind closed doors belonged to them. They both knew how to strategize brilliantly and shared the workload, and both of them were strong, efficient, smart leaders. 

Tonight provided no exception to the typical rule of their lives. Women flocked around them, they paid for their drinks; there were shared spins around the dance floor and playful flirtation nonstop. Arn had a number of beers, danced with an older woman, and eventually called an end to the night when Ric stripped off his Armani suit to dance naked on the bar, laughing, with an expensive bottle of champagne hoisted over his head. 

Arn laughed at his antics, but stayed wary of the amount of money they spent; every spare dollar would go home, and Ric had a tendency to overspend in his largess. It was his job to budget their lives when they were on the road together. Ric was often so caught up in the good times that he never noticed Arn finessing the owners with bribes and escorting too-chummy girls out the back door.

Ric laughed, half-drunk, as Arn tucked him in the back of the limo that took them back to their cheap hotel. The embrace turned serious in private and Arn was almost smug about it; he knew what true fidelity was. The girls he tolerated for an hour or a day, but they all inevitably walked out the door, leaving Arn with a boozy, horny Ric to clean up.

In the shower, in private, where they could touch in silent peace, the world narrowed down to include the two of them and no one else. His fingers tattooed a beat across Ric’s body and Ric moved to it, the rhythms as innate as the ones they used together in the ring. “God, man, I missed you.” Ric swayed his hips, his breath half-choked. His bleached blonde hair stuck out in feathery spikes, making a demonic halo around his face as Arn worked shampoo through it.

“I’ve been with you for the whole damned day,” Arn pointed out.

Ric shrugged at this true statement, no defense prepared for such logic. “Turn around. It’s time I washed your back.” Ric said that in the same way he usually told Wahoo McDaniel he wanted to kick his ass, hands on the hips and full of swagger. 

Arn did as he asked immediately. 

 

*******

 

He wondered, sometimes, what people thought Ric did in his silk-sheet covered penthouses. How he classily seduced and entertained the ladies he spoke of.

They likely did not picture him on his aching knees desperately sucking his best friend’s cock in the shower of a Red Roof Inn while hot water cascaded all around them. 

 

*******

 

They curled up together, Ric in his expensive silk pajamas and Arn in his old boxer shorts, the two of them letting the breeze from the room’s tiny AC lick over their bare skin.

“We’ll get Sting in the back after his interview,” Ric said decisively, suddenly, as if they’d been having a conversation the entire time. “Triple team him. Call in Barry and Lex, they’ll know what to do and how to get it done.”

“Right,” Arn said. He’d probably have to herd them like cats until the task was completed, but he’d take the order and be brilliant with it. It was how they operated.

“I love you, brother,” Ric said into the back of his neck, both arms around Arn’s stomach, pressing down where he ached. “But you knew that.”

Yeah. Arn definitely did.


End file.
